International Cryptozoology Museum Conference
Night 1
January 4, 2016
I like cryptozoologists.
Even though I don’t use the term for myself anymore (too much TV
baggage), I like the people I meet in the business. I like their stubborn optimism, their
enthusiasm, and their determination. Except for the hoaxers, they’re a great
bunch to hang out with. I critique the
field a lot for its collective habit of endorsing particular “crypids”
before the evidence justifies it, but science needs optimists, even wild-eyed
ones.
So here I am at the inaugural ICM Conference in St.
Augustine, FL. Loren Coleman, founder of
the ICM in Portland, Maine, ably seconded by his effervescent wife Jenny, has
gathered some of the most active people in the field. He hoped for 100+ attendees to create one of
the leading conferences on the subject, but it’s the first year, and maybe half
that have gathered. What they lack in numbers, though, they make up for in
energy, and the white-bearded Coleman is as enthusiastic as they come.
I wish I could describe all of Night 1, but I spent the
opening social on the road after a two-hour delay in Atlanta to fix a fuel pump
in the airplane and re-top the tanks. This was annoying but ok with us
passengers: a retired Navy pilot sitting next to me commented that the only time a
plane can have too much fuel is when it’s on fire.
So what I missed was the awarding of the Golden Yeti, a
rather intimidating-looking statuette that went to the Cryptozoologist of the
Year. The awardee was Jeremy Efroymson, a film-maker, attorney, writer, and
philanthropist who I honestly hadn’t heard of, but he’s been important: as
Loren wrote, “Jeremy is bestowed this honor for his quiet but steady support of
serious cryptozoological pursuits. Jeremy and the Efroymson Family Foundation
have awarded grants and funds since at least, 2012, to such grantees as the
Virtual Footprints Archive at Idaho State University, the Ohio Bigfoot
Conference, and the International Cryptozoology Museum.” Cryptozoology doesn’t exactly top the list
for National Science Foundation grants, so the field is fortunate to have
Jeremy.
The Golden Yeti
I did make the presentation on the Florida Skunk Ape, a
subject of interest since I grew up down the coast from here in Vero
Beach. I heard only rumors of sightings
as a kid, but I knew what it was, or was supposed to be.
(Quick aside: I was volunteering on a political campaign in 1976 when a newspaper from the town of St. Cloud headlined a "900-lb Hairy Creature Stalking Reedy Creek Area." I pinned it to the wall with the note that we now knew where our opponent was campaigning. It was funny at the time.)
Tonight’s presenter was Rob Robinson. I’ve used the word “enthusiastic” a lot, but
I had to use it again here. He was an
infectious speaker, weaving a great story with bits of humor like the time he
was scared out of his wits by a large nocturnal animal that turned out to be a
cow. He debunked some recent photo and video hoaxes but showed some images no one present had seen before. (Still too distant, too dark, etc., although a video of a dark figure gliding easily through swampy areas where human would normally walk with great difficulty was interesting despite the poor quality of the image. ) When I asked him the standard question – why isn’t there better evidence,
when we have roadkills and photos of the extremely rare Florida panther – he replied
he thinks the evidence is mounting, even if mostly “blobsqatch" imagery and footprints
so far – as people become more aware. He thinks a small population of smart
primates very wary of humans could hide in Florida wilderness a long time.
Despite my skepticism on all things squatch-related, I can’t really say that’s
impossible, although there's still the huge problem of how a large primate got to North America, when, and from where.. His belief Florida supports two
anomalous primates, Bigfoot and the smaller (and smellier) Skunk Ape, is even harder to accept, but his belief there is SOMETHING going on is intriguing.
On the subject of another cryptid, or near-cryptid, Rob commented on my mention of the Florida panther by reporting he and his wife watched a black Florida panther walk right in front of their car in daylight. There aren’t supposed to be melanistic panthers in Florida, but there aren’t supposed to be any in Maine, either, and my dad is pretty certain about the one he saw 60 years ago. Mammologist Jeff Corwin described his own Florida panther sighting thus: “It was darker than the panthers I'd seen in photos, more charcoal than sage.” So I’ve never ruled out black, or at least dark, panthers, although Florida wildlife authorities blew Rob off when he said “black.”
On the subject of another cryptid, or near-cryptid, Rob commented on my mention of the Florida panther by reporting he and his wife watched a black Florida panther walk right in front of their car in daylight. There aren’t supposed to be melanistic panthers in Florida, but there aren’t supposed to be any in Maine, either, and my dad is pretty certain about the one he saw 60 years ago. Mammologist Jeff Corwin described his own Florida panther sighting thus: “It was darker than the panthers I'd seen in photos, more charcoal than sage.” So I’ve never ruled out black, or at least dark, panthers, although Florida wildlife authorities blew Rob off when he said “black.”
There was an interesting documentary showing after that meeting, but
I had work to do for my day job and had to beg off. But I enjoyed Night 1, as brief
as it was, and look forward to Day 2, including my own talk on bears.
It’s all off to a howling good start.
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